Italy curls
by Black Flaming Love
Summary: This has no plot! btw Romano has a curl on the left. Italy's is on the right. I use that to show view points, but mostly Romano's. GerIta, mostly RomaSpain. rated T for Romano's mouth and implied sex
1. curl left

Why? Why can't I tell him? Spain sits there, cheery smile and all, reading some kind of book, and I stare at him from over my own book, "_Perche Ti Amo_?" I've read it so many times, and now I hide in the bathroom or locked in my bedroom while I read the ending because I place Spain and myself in the characters' shoes. The characters were so much like us that…it was unbelievable.

I think Italy meant to do that. He was the one who gave me the book, stupid little brother. But I always place myself in the girl's point of view, Mila, and Spain into Gino's point of view. Mila was a village maiden, and Gino was in love with her. He kept asking her to marry him, but she kept rejecting him because she was too proud to admit her love for him. And then Gino grew depressed and killed himself and Mila killed herself to be with him.

Anyways, I stared at Spain, like always. Today he was humming an Italian lullaby he used to sing to me when I was a child, afraid of the dark (among other things). Why didn't he sing me Spanish lullabies? He did, but he overheard me singing it to Italy once, and found out that it was my favorite song. His sweet voice mixed with the beauty of that lullaby got me to sleep very effectively.

I moved my book away as I sneezed. Spain smiled at me. "Ah, Lovi~, your sneezes are so cute!" He grinned.

"Whatever," I growled, my cheeks heating up. Spain looked back down at his book. "I'm hungry!" I complained loudly. Spain sighed and got up. But I was already disappearing into the kitchen. He followed me, still humming. "Are you trying to lull me to sleep, jackass?" I asked.

"Possibly." I rammed my head into his chest for his mocking smile. I made dinner, pasta because Italy had brought over way too much ingredients for pasta, and we ate with light talk, mostly about the tomatoes. Then I got up, bored out of my mind, and walked over to my gaming system. While raiding an American house with my mafia, I found this incredible gaming system called a '_Wii_.' My favorite game was a war game.

Spain picked up his own controller, and smirked at me. I took his unspoken challenge, selecting the Italian character, Demarco, a man who looked a lot like Italy, except without the hair and buffer. I liked him because he was agile. Spain, on the other hand, took the Spanish character, Alberto, who looked considerably like him, except ugly, and he didn't smile…and he had a mustache.

In choosing our enemies, before Spain could touch it, I clicked the Germans and the French. That means they were on Spain's team. Spain chose Austria and Turkey. I glared at him for choosing Turkey.

"I'm sorry, _mi tomate_," He apologized with that smile, ugh, _that smile_! Did he know it made my heart beat against my ribcage rather painfully?

"Asshole," I muttered, and then took the first shot, killing a German. "Ha!" I cried. A Turkish soldier to my left died. "Hey!" I cried.

"Damn, I have horrible aim in video games," Spain mumbled. I glared at screen two, his screen, and shot at him. "Shit!" He barely dodged.

I hid behind a rock, waiting until a few Germans walked by and shot them all. One got me in the arm, lowering my health. "Damn it," I growled. I looked down as Spain threw something on his screen. "Wha-?" a bomb landed in front of me. "SHIT!"

I raced away from it as fast as my character would go, barely getting away before it exploded. I hid behind a rock, next to a few Austrians. I watched Spain's character sneak up behind a group of Austrians, next to a rock. WAIT!

I waited until he killed the group, and then when he turned to corner I hit him in the back of the head with my gun. He fell onto his back, knocked out for a moment.

"Please, Romano, spare me. Have mercy," Spain pleaded, as if his life was on the line. I shook my head to clear the thoughts coming to my head, but they wouldn't leave.

I saw myself and Spain in war. I saw myself knock him over and point my gun at him. He was under me now. He begged me to have mercy. I picked him up and kissed him passionately. And then he was under me again, screaming my name…oh _God_, stop, stop, _stop_!

I shot a German, and then sighed. "Fine, I'll-" Spain's character shot at me, wasting half of my health. I groaned loudly and threw my last bomb. Spain laughed, not noticing the bomb next to his character.

Until it went off. Spain's laughing stopped immediately. He gawked as the words flashed on the screen: Italians Win! "Note to self: in war, do not show Spain mercy," I smirked.

"Who says you'll ever fight against me in war?" Spain snickered. I glared harshly at him. He assumed I'd always be his little South Italy. One day, when I got enough power, I'd declare war on Spain. "One day. I'm not his cute little shadow, always tagging along. I want to be as equal as him, but for now-"

Suddenly, Spain glomped me. "You aren't my little shadow, _querido_!" He cried. _I-I had said it out loud!_

"G-g-get off me, asshole!" I shouted. Spain chuckled and ruffled my hair, sweeping his hand across that one _damned_ curl. I could feel…feel…I bit my lip as hard as I could, drawing a bit of blood.

Spain leaned forward. "Romano, you're bleeding," He told me. _Yeah, no shit_. I couldn't stop biting down, or something was going to come out that I'd regret. Spain picked me up, walking into the bathroom with me. He took the First-Aid kit and started to clean up the blood. He touched my lip, and I trembled under his touch.

"S-Spain," I whimpered. Spain cocked his head to the side.

"_Si_?" I wriggled from his grasp and ran to my room, slamming the door behind me. My heart raced, my breathing ragged. Some areas of my body were significantly _harder_ than usual. Why? Why couldn't I tell him how he made me feel? I took a deep breath.

"A-am I that…revolting?" His voice startled me. I slapped my hand to my mouth to keep the girlish scream from coming out. I opened my mouth to answer, then paused. What if my voice cracked? Then he'd figure out, and I wanted to tell him myself, if I would ever grow a set and actually tell him.

I perked up as Spain's bedroom door slammed shut. I heard a smashing sound, a scream of anger and anguish, and then silence. I felt calm enough to open my own door, walking over to Spain's room and putting my ear to the door. There was a quiet, sad sound.

I remembered the one day that Germany (that fucking potato prick) told Italy he was useless and Italy ran over to my house and was crying. This sound…Spain was crying. Realization was a door to the face…literally.

"Owww~!" I whined, rubbing my face. Spain sniffled.

"Wh-what were you doing in front of the door, idiot?" He asked. I looked up at him. He…he called me an idiot.

"I was…coming in to ask what the fuck you broke!" I shouted, a blush spreading across my face. I was not caring about him!

"I broke the mirror."

I blinked. "How the fuck did…?" He held up his fist, bleeding severely. I cried out, getting to my feet and leading him to the bathroom. This was a painful day; me with my lip, Spain with his fist, me with my head _and_ ass.

Spain watched me get out the First-Aid kit again, and started cleaning out his wounded knuckles. "Why?" I looked up at him, and he stared back with this sad, intent look in his chocolate-brown eyes.

"Why what, jackass?" I mumbled. He pulled his hand away from me, slipping past me out the door. "H-hey!" I cried, running after him. He slammed the door shut, and I slipped and ran right into it. "Owww~!" I whined again, stepping back away from the door.

"Why do you always-!" The door smashed into my face for the third time, though much harder than the other times. Spain looked behind the door. His face paled, and he started to yell something. I couldn't hear him. There was darkness seeping in from all sides.

My legs turned to spaghetti, and I collapsed. Why was the floor so soft and warm and…I looked up and noticed I was in Spain's arms. Oh…that was why. I opened my mouth and started saying something, something in Italian. Spain's eyes widened as I talked. I'm going to regret…my train of thought ended abruptly, as well as my consciousness.

"Don't you dare touch him, France! Prussia, don't break anything! France, get away from him!"

"Jesus, Spain!"

"_Mon cheri_, relax!"

"I can't! He's been out for a whole hour!"

"…wo~ow, an hour! Calm the fuck down, he'll be fine! I just wish I could see his face when you smashed it!"

"Prussia! I didn't mean to hurt him!"

"Enough of that; tell me again exactly what he said!"

"…'_Spagna, mi dispiace per ogni volta che io abbia mai spezzato il cuore. Non riesco a riconoscere come mi sento veramente di te. __Spagna ... ti amo la Spagna. Mi dispiace_-' and then he passed out." (**Spain, I'm sorry for every time I've ever broken your heart. I just can't admit how I really feel about you. Spain...I love you Spain. I'm sorry I-**)

My head hurts, my face hurts, my ass hurts, and now I find out that I confessed to Spain? A hand strokes my cheek. Prussia's voice started to speak.

"When will you tell him?"

Silence followed the question. And that's when I whimpered, shifting slightly and opening my eyes. Spain stood over me, a relieved smile on his face. "Thank God, Lovi!" He cried. Tears trickled down my cheeks.

"G-get out, all of you!" I shouted. Spain's smile quickly melted away. The other two assholes left. He stayed. "Go away, Spain," I choked.

"No." I gave a distressed groan, also because my head was throbbing from yelling.

"Please, Spain!" I pleaded. Spain put a finger under my chin and tilted it up. I was still crying, but now I was confused. I just wanted him out. How could I be so stupid to tell him?

Spain searched my eyes, and the defiant fire in his own eyes smothered into something else. He brushed a teardrop from my cheek. I blushed a deep red and shifted my gaze away. "S-Spain," I whimpered. I leaned forward to finally capture his lips.

"_CRASH_!"

"_BANG_!"

"I FOUND THE ICE CREAM! MWAHAHAHA!"

"WAIT, PRUSSIA! YOU KNOW WHAT ICE CREAM DOES TO YOU!"

"WITH THIS ICE CREAM, I'LL RULE THE WORLD IN ALL MY AWESOME-NESS!"

"PRUSSIA!"

I groaned and got to my feet. "Let's take the Hungarian approach on this matter," I growled, picking up a random pan.

"Ah, _mi tomate_, please don't kill anyone," Spain voiced quietly. I blushed.

"I-I won't," I mumbled. I walked into the kitchen, where France warily watched the Prussian with an empty ice cream container on his head.

"Hey, Romano!" Prussia smiled cutely, sitting like a puppy. The ice cream container hat slipped over one of his eyes. I lowered the pan. Prussia looked down at the pan. "You're not gonna hit me, are you?" He whimpered.

"N-no, I'm not," I sighed. Spain walked in, picking Prussia up like a baby. Prussia giggled like a schoolgirl. "On second thought…" I grumbled.

France heard, taking Prussia from Spain. He nodded in my direction. I 'hmph'ed and turned my head away. "France, am I cute?" Prussia asked.

"Adorable. Now let's go bring you to your little brother," France sighed.

"Holy Roman Empire?"

"N-no, Germany…"

"Same person, only Germany doesn't know that," I turned my head to the retreating Frenchman and Prussian.

"Oh, Italy is gonna be pissed," I mumbled. Suddenly, I was picked up. I looked up at my favorite Spaniard. Spain brought me to the room.

"Let's have fun," He smirked, locking the door. He waited a moment, probably for me to protest. I pulled off my shirt, wrapping my arms around his neck and locking our lips together.


	2. curls right

Italy's point of view, hence the beginning. y'know, I thought I had this site down, but I'm not quite sure anymore...GAH! Deviantart is so much easier to work! by the way, it is there, I think. my username there is ChibiPrincess201 =3

warnings: Italy being completely out of character (I can't stand writing with his...his him-ness kind of personality!), implied sex between both Romano and Spain AND Germany and Italy. Prussia being Prussia (warning: you may die of his awesome-ness) , France even though he doesn't do anything France-ish...yeah.

disclaimer: .......*runs off crying*  
Nina (my island OC) : that means she doesn't own Hetalia  
Canada: or any of us.  
Both: .......even though she wants Romano  
Romano: RAWR! *breathes fire angrily*  
Nina: 0_o can all Italian's do that? That's fucking awesome!  
Nina and Prussia: LIKE (Prussia-nii/me)!  
Canada: T_T maple...anyways, on with the story, eh?

* * *

CURL FLIP~ right

I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Germany had forced me to run three whole miles, and when I passed out on the second, he wouldn't let me have any dinner. He can be such a meanie!

Germany walked into my room. I looked away, because I knew he was dripping wet and in only a towel. I had heard the shower running earlier. "Italy! Get up!" He shouted in that _God damned_ loud German voice.

I stifled a sneeze. Germany walked closer. "Japan-"

It was going to be an empty threat, but I hated how he continually talked about Japan, Japan, _Japan_! "If he keeps teaching you stuff or whatever, why don't you go screw him?" I hissed. It was such a Romano-like thing to do, but at the time I didn't care. I was sick and annoyed. And it was hot in here. Too hot.

"I-Italy?" Germany turned me over, and I groaned at the movement. "You look pale…" He commented. My throat hurt. Telling him off made it worse. I said nothing.

Germany brushed my bangs off my forehead, which I was grateful for because they were sticking to my forehead. I was sweating a lot. Germany put a hand on my forehead. I reached up, no longer angry, and put my smaller hand over his.

"Italy, you're burning up," He whispered. I made an agreeing noise. There was a knock on the door. Germany walked away to answer the door.

I got out of bed and followed after Germany. It had been France holding Prussia. Prussia had something on his head. "Hey, Holy Roman Empire!" He greeted. I froze.

"What?" Germany asked.

"Oh, I forgot, you don't know that you are the Holy Roman Empire!" Prussia laughed.

"I…what are you talking about?" I stared at Germany. Oh, God…why didn't I see the resemblance?

"Whose panties are in your wardrobe?" I could feel hot tears dripping down my face. And the heat, ugh! I felt light-headed now.

"I-I don't…Chibitalia…" My legs gave way then, and I hit the ground. Everything was hot, so hot…

"Italy!" Someone picked me up. I knew that someone…

"You told me you'd come see me when the war was over…" I mumbled. I was placed in the bathtub.

"Hang in there, Italy!" I heard Germany shout.

"You told me…" My voice was becoming fainter. My tears were still falling down my face. I could feel cold all on my body.

"Please be okay…please…" was Germany sobbing?

"YOU LIAR!" I screamed, sitting up in the bathtub of ice. Germany stared at me. "I haven't been this angry at someone since America's Great Depression, when he made me even poorer!" I shrieked.

"I-is your fever down?" Germany asked. I grabbed his hand and slapped it to my forehead, trying not to grimace at the sting that followed.

Prussia and France were at the door. Prussia stepped forward. "It isn't his fault, it was mine. He didn't even know he was the former Holy Rome," Prussia explained.

"I don't care!" I retorted. I picked up the phone, glaring at Germany's brother and his friend. They got the hint and left. The phone continued to ring, and finally, Spain answered.

"_Hola_(**1**)?"

"_I told you not to answer_!"

"_Shh, Lovi_."

"_Ah~ don't_!"

"_Who is this_?" My mind went blank.

"Spain, give the phone to Romano," I ordered.

There was the sound of someone handing the phone off, and then Romano's voice. "_Y-yes_?" He asked. He was breathing heavily.

"I'm going to skip the '_what were you just doing_' question and ask if I could come over," I stated.

"_Er, um…if you…wait, why? Don't you-**stop touching me, Spain, I can't talk!**-don't you have that Pota_-?"

"No." Germany made a grab for the phone. "Don't touch me," I hissed.

"_Italy__, I know how you feel about the Po…Germany_." My face went red. Germany made another attempt to steal the phone.

"Hang up," He whispered.

"No, Phone-Nazi(**2**)!" I retorted.

"_So just…just be happy, okay_?"

"What are you talking about, big brother?" I inquired. Germany wrapped his arms around my waist. "Wha-what are you doing?!" I cried. He grabbed the phone and tossed it on the floor next to my foot.

"Making it up to you," He whispered in my ear, pressing his lips to mine. His hand wandered up to my curl. I completely melted under his touch.

* * *

1 : (_Spanish_) T_T **hello**, idiota  
2 : BWAHAHAHAHA, HE CALLED GERMANY A PHONE NAZI! get it? Germany, Nazi??? ..............................MEANIES! *goes into Fail Corner*

Romano: where the fuck is there implied sex between that Potato and my brother?!  
me: w-well, Germany touched his curl....  
Romano: pervert.....  
me: SO! Did you guys like it???...........  
*cricket*...*cricket*...*cricket*  
me: SO CRUEL! *returns to Fail Corner*  
Romano: hehehe


	3. left curl epilouge

warnings: implied sex between Romano and Spain

disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the characters.......even though I want Ro-England!

Romano: RA-did she just say England?  
me: *huggles England*  
England: T_T oh, bloody hell. shouldn't you be returning to your story?  
me:........STORY, COMMENCE!....oh, your so moe!  
England: what the hell does 'moe' mean????????

* * *

CURL FLIP~ left

When there was moaning and other sexual noises, combined with a repeating banging, I hung up. My brain had just turned to mush. "That Potato is fucking my brother's brains out," I muttered. Spain chuckled.

"Let's follow their example," He purred, running one of his hands down my chest. I shivered.

"Okay…"

* * *

"I got you another book!" Italy sung. I muttered something, hiding "_Perche Ti Amo?_"(**1**) from his sight. Italy thrust a book into my arms.

"Oh, God…" I read the title again. "'_Sotto la luce della Luna_'?" I demanded.

"Under the moonlight," Germany translated, surprising me. I nodded.

"Based on a true story," Spain commented. Italy agreed.

"Wh-what do you mean?" I asked.

"A young Italian commoner falls for a Spaniard prince. I mean, obviously some things are changed a bit, but most of it is intact," Italy explained.

This was beginning to sound suspicious. I opened it to a random page. My own name, Lovino, caught my eye first, and in the same sentence was Spain's name, Antonio. I read the sentence. '_Antonio ravished Lovino, earning small pleasured sounds from the younger man._'

The author needed to be shot. It was the first thought that came to my mind. I turned to the cover of the book and read the author's name. Feliciano Vargas. "Tell me, younger brother…have you ever been shot?" I asked darkly.

Italy laughed nervously. "N-no…" He replied. Spain took my hand in his before I could show Italy what it was like.

"Now now, my little Southern angel-" Spain started. I 'hmph'ed, turning my head away. "Aw, don't be that way, _mi tomate_(**2**)!" Spain smiled.

"No, jackass," I replied. I don't know what I was saying 'no' to, but I stuck by my decision. Spain sighed, kissing me gently before going into the kitchen.

And, to my brother and the Potato's surprise, the action did not follow with a curse, a shout, or even a slap. It only caused a blush and a small smile to grace my features.

"What?" I snarled at the Potato. Just because I let him date my brother, did not mean I was going to become his best friend or whatever. I still hated his guts, though maybe a little less. He made my brother the happiest he's ever been. I guess I'll give him credit for that.

"Lovi~!" Spain called. I turned to see him standing in the doorway. "Lunch!" He added.

"Coming, Tonio!" I replied. Spain smiled at my affectionate nickname; he loved it when I called him 'Tonio'. I wouldn't admit that I felt the same way when he called me 'Lovi.' At least, not in daylight. Heheh.

* * *

1 : (_Italian_) T_T **why do I love you**? the book I'm always making Romano read for some...odd...reason. But Italy gave it too him so he doesn't want to admit he reads it.  
2 : (_Spanish_) **my tomato**

ooh, Roma-chan, you're so sexual! lol  
Romano: did you just call me that stupido nickname of yours???  
me: ...............  
Nina: WAHHH!!!!! Romano, it's France! Save me!  
Romano: CHE COSA??????? *runs away*  
me: Thanks for the save, Nina!  
Nina: It wasn't a save; he's actually coming!  
me: CHE COSA?????? *sprays Frenchman-B-Gone in his face*

By the way, che cosa is one of my favorite Italian phrases. it means 'what' or 'what did you say'


	4. beer and wine?

HOLD ON THERE! epilouge means THE END! not really but there wasn't supposed to be more!

but wait! what happened to our favorite Prussian and Frenchman? After angry!Feli scared them away...what happened?

**warnings**: France and Prussia. nuff said. and I use my OC Nina...a bit.

**disclaimer**: I don't own Hetalia or the characters (except Nina).......but Prussia owns my vital regions

Prussia: FUCK YEAH! That's just how awesome I am; so awesome I own the author's vital regions!  
me: don't push it.  
Prussia: I am _hell_-_a _awesome!  
me:........Russia~!  
Russia: yonda~?  
me: Prussia wants to become one with you!  
**kolkolkolkolkolkol**!

* * *

Gilbert raided Francis's fridge for beer and/or ice cream. "Damn it, Franny! You don't have any ice cream or beer! Just this sissy wine! You are so un-awesome!" He announced loudly.

Francis sighed. "Gilbert, I got rid of my ice cream because you go nuts when you have some...remember that one time when you dumped milk on Antoine's head? Non(**1**), I would not let you anywhere near ice cream," He explained. Gilbert stopped to think. A grin split across his face at the memory.

"Tonio looked like a drowned rat! Hehehe...and then his boy toy Lovino hit me with God knows what it was!" Gilbert frowned. "That cranky kid is a bitch," He grumbled. "Nothing like little cute Feli...who is terrifying when he's angry," Gilbert added.

Francis shivered. "Did you see how he looked like he could kill someone? I've seen him like that three instances before: when I tried to steal his food, when I tried to molest Lovino (or was that Antoine?), and when we were playing football(**2**) with him," Francis shivered.

"He tries to kill people while playing fussball(**3**)?" Gilbert asked. Francis nodded quickly. Gilbert shrugged. "Didn't know that..."

"Don't you remember when poor Antoine came running to us, all beat up, with Lovino and Feli running after in their football gear shouting about there still being half a game?" Francis inquired. Gilbert nodded slowly.

"Yeah...and Tonio is pretty good at futball, too," Gilbert replied. Then he perked up. "Where is that idiot?" He suddenly asked.

"With Lovino," Francis replied. Gilbert pulled out his phone. "Ah, mon ami(**4**), I wouldn't..." Gilbert ignored him, like always, and pressed the phone to his ear. He groaned, signaling no one answered. "Didn't you hear me? Antoine is with _Lovino_," Francis stressed. Gilbert redialed.

"Come _on_, pick up pick up pick up~!" He muttered, shifting from foot to foot impatiently.

"What the fuck do you want, Albino Potato Freak?!" Gilbert yelped, dropping the phone. There was a series of Italian swear words, with Spanish whispers in the background.

"U-uh, sorry Lovino...the awesome me has to go," Gilbert chuckled. He was _not _scared of a temperamental Italian!

"Stop calling Antonio, damn it! If you call one more time-!" Gilbert quickly hung up. Francis laughed.

"I told you, mon cher(**5**), but did you listen? Non!" Francis smiled. Gilbert sighed, grabbing some cheese from the floor...which he dropped.

"Ah, shit!" Gilbert swore, bending over to pick it up. (_A/N: no! Prussia, not in front of France! Don't drop the soap...er, cheese!!!_) Francis smirked lecherously. He stood, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist. "Holy shit!" Gilbert yelped. Francis laughing evilly.

"Let's go have some fun!" He sang, failing to see Gilbert grab Elizabeta's frying pan (_A/N: why was it at France's house and why does everyone decide to use Hungary's attack??? Romano too_!).

"HUNGARIAN ATTACK!

"OUCH!"

* * *

Gilbert smirked at Francis, who glared back and put the ice pack back on his head. "Why did you come to my house anyway, you bloody frog?" Arthur grumbled, shooting said Frenchman a glare.

"But mon cheri Angleterre(**6**), I love you too much to-oof!" Francis pushed the angry Brit's fist away from his face. "Fuck, Arthur, that hurt!" He hissed. "I actually came here for precieux(**7**) Paige," Francis purred, directing his gaze to the little brunette behind Arthur's leg. She put up her middle finger to him, causing him to make an offended sound.

Arthur ushered Paige into the other room. "I'll take you home to Nina Island after I deal with the stupid frog, okay?" He told her. She nodded and skipped off.

"Why don't you let me take her to my house?" Francis purred. Arthur shot him a glare, walking over and pulling the beer away from Gilbert.

"You're so un-awesome. Just bask in my awesome-ness for a bit and then you'll be a little better!" Gilbert chimed. He made a grab for the beer, but the short Brit was faster, pulling it away quickly.

"You want to come over to my house instead, oui?(**8**)" Francis gave a lewd grin. He ducked to avoid the shoe that was aimed for his face.

"I want you two out of my house!" Arthur demanded, pointing a finger at the exit. Gilbert jumped to his feet, facing Arthur with a retort on the lips. Unfortunately, he left his back vulnerable to a certain young island.

"Nii-san~!(**9**)" Paige jumped onto the Prussian's back, causing him to stumble forward. "This is the awesome-est piggyback ride _ever_! From the awesome-est ex-nation _ever_!" Paige giggled.

Gilbert momentarily sulked for the 'ex-nation' statement. "I know I'm awesome, little cutie, but now you need to _get off my back_!" Gilbert rushed, glancing at the livid Englishman. Arthur glared at Gilbert as if the silverette had shouted, '_Hey, Paige! Come jump on my back and flash everyone your panties_!'

Paige jumped off his back, giggling. She flashed Francis a dirty look as he stalked up with his Rape Face on. She picked up Arthur's coffee table ("Ah, Paige, not my table, please!") and threw it right at the Frenchman. "Go away!" She shouted, stomping one converse-clad foot. Francis glared back, sticking out his tongue childishly and walking out the door.

"Well, the awesome me better be going," Gilbert announced as Arthur started to clean up and Paige skipped off to look for her bunny. Arthur waved goodbye without even looking up.

"Uh-huh, bye."

"And I'm taking the beer with me," Gilbert added, grabbing said beer from the table.

"Uh-huh, bye."

"And...and I'm popping your tires before I leave!" Gilbert added, now angry at being brushed off.

"Uh-huh, bye."

Gilbert smiled pervertedly. "And I'm going to seize Mattie's vital regions again~!" He sung, starting to run as he knew he should.

"Uh-hu-**WHAT**?!?!"

"Run, Franny, run!"

* * *

shitty ending is shitty. I just had to do the last part.....I love PruCan!

1 : (_French_) **no**. duh!  
2 : (_French_) **soccer**. Only America calls it soccer. And we play football with our _hands_! dumbasses! (I'm Canadian at heart, I bet)**  
**3 : (_German_) **soccer**. actually it has this weird B lookin thing. thank you **incurableoptimist24 **for telling me about the weird B also being two s's =  
4 : (_French_) **my friend**.  
5 : (_French_) **my dear**.  
6 : (_French_) **my darling England**. France is strange...  
7 : (_French_) **precious**. I think France is suicidal. He knows England is protective of his little sister Nina!  
8 : (_French_) **yes**. duh!  
9 : (_Japanese_)** big brother**. Correct me if I'm wrong but it might just be brother.

I love the Bad Touch Trio. I just wish Spain was there...I'm getting ideas kukukuku**kolkolkolkolkol**


End file.
